


early morning sunbeams

by chronikle



Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronikle/pseuds/chronikle
Summary: Takeru groaned as he blinked into consciousness, the sound of the babbling brook and morning birdsong melting from his dream into the harsh reality of his alarm. He tried to ignore it for a brief, selfish moment, seeking recluse in the expanse of Makoto’s back, but it did nothing to alleviate the sound emanating from his phone, and he relented, rolling over to turn it off.





	early morning sunbeams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lorandias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorandias/gifts).



> Written during the last third of episodes of Kamen Rider Ghost for my best friend's birthday, when we didn't know how it was going to end and had our version of events set up. Basic premise is that nobody goes back to the Ganma world, so Makoto gets a job and Alain ends up becoming a model (hence the absolute lack of Alain in this fic at this current time, otherwise it would have been OT3).

Takeru groaned as he blinked into consciousness, the sound of the babbling brook and morning birdsong melting from his dream into the harsh reality of his alarm. He tried to ignore it for a brief, selfish moment, seeking recluse in the expanse of Makoto’s back, but it did nothing to alleviate the sound emanating from his phone, and he relented, rolling over to turn it off. Part of him—a very large part, actually—wanted to roll back into the comfort of Makoto’s presence, bury his face between Makoto’s shoulders, and fall asleep for a little while longer, but Takeru knew it would be futile.

Onari would only come looking for him eventually, or treat him to a personal lecture on the importance of responsibility, temperance, and punctuality when Takeru finally rose.

As if sensing his discontent, Makoto shifted, making the small, sleepy noises he was wont to do when waking, and rolled over to face him, eyes bleary.

“Takeru,” he said, his voice hoarse with sleep. He reached out and touched him lightly on the wrist.

Makoto’s husky voice was like honey to Takeru’s ears. He squeezed Makoto’s hand as an electric shiver ran through his body, interlacing their fingers while he battled with the twin desires of fulfilling his duties and spending the morning in bed with his very attractive boyfriend.

“You should go back to sleep, Makoto-niichan,” Takeru said, resisting the urge to scoot back down and curl up in his arms. Makoto was making it very difficult to resist: his hair was mussed up, strands falling into his eyes, and he looked more comfortable and relaxed than he usually did during the day.

This was Takeru’s Makoto—and, yes, sometimes Alain’s too, but more rarely—and while he understood Makoto’s awkward, more reserved attitude around the others, he much preferred this more open and honest version.

“I can get up with you,” Makoto suggested, although he looked and sounded sleepier than he had a moment ago. Takeru wondered if he could send him back to sleep by stroking his hair.

“Nuh-uh,” Takeru replied, shaking his head. “It’s your day off. You should sleep. You deserve it.”

“I want to spend it with you,” Makoto replied, failing to fight back a yawn. “I’ll get up.”

He looked as if he was about to do just that, so Takeru shook his head and pressed his hand against Makoto’s shoulder, pushing him back down. It was light enough so as not to hurt, but forceful enough that Makoto got the message, yielding to Takeru’s touch.

“Nope!” Takeru grinned, as bright as a sunbeam. He leaned in, adopting the even, commanding tone he knew Makoto would listen to. “Stay here and get some more sleep. I’ll come back when I’m finished with my chores.”

Makoto looked as though he was about to protest, but he blinked sleepily and the fight went out of him. He nodded instead, relaxing back into the comfort of the futon they’d slept on, and let Takeru get up without further protest.

“Come back soon,” he said, his voice still gravely with sleep, while Takeru wrestled into his clothes.

Takeru smiled as he pressed a kiss to Makoto’s head, who mumbled sleepily in response. “I’ll be back before you know it.”


End file.
